


Tied Up and Waiting (Non-gendered Reader/OMC)

by Mel_is_a_Queer



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blindfolds, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, F/M, Foreplay, Gags, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, No Plot/Plotless, Non-Explicit Sex, Nonbinary Character, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rope Bondage, Self-Indulgent, Stranger Sex, Strangers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:47:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27884731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mel_is_a_Queer/pseuds/Mel_is_a_Queer
Summary: Reader (gender not mentioned) wakes up to realize they've been blindfolded, gagged, and tied up tight. Reader is not opposed to the deep-voiced, heavy-footed OMC that joins the party though.Dub-con with an unknown man. OMC has no major descriptors so feel free to imagine anybody.First one-shot, first post to AO3.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character, Original Male Character/Reader, You/Original Character
Kudos: 13





	Tied Up and Waiting (Non-gendered Reader/OMC)

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you think I missed any tags and I'll go back to add them. Also please leave reviews and kudos if you please! Hope you enjoy!

My hands are tied and everything is dark. I'm blinking but my vision remains dark. I think there is something covering my eyes. It feels almost soft, a little like silk, but there seems to be a seem of thread that sits on the bridge of my nose. I’m trying to move but my body feels stuck. I can’t move my limbs at all. The scratches of rope drag against my skin and I realize it’s bare. 

I should probably feel more embarrassed or angry or afraid, but all I can think about is how the burn of rope against skin has the power to eliminate all rational thoughts. The longer I’m bound here, the less afraid I feel. My body is flushing at the thought. The heat rising under the surface of my skin makes it harder to stop myself from squirming and tugging at my bounds but I don’t budge. Whoever did this clearly knows what they are doing. A sort of primal urge shoots down my spine and my skin is burning now. I’m writing on top of whatever is below me, it feels solid and hard, likely a table of sorts, and I am desperate for something other than the quiet darkness that fills my senses.

The sensation of the rough ropes against my skin is treated to the lewdest moan I think I’ve ever heard. It took a moment before I realize that it came from my own body. 

The harshness against my skin is, “Oh so delectable.”

I freeze. That wasn’t my voice.

“Like a little present, so yummy and,” my shoulders tense as I hear noise from somewhere in the room. “All. For. Me.” Each word is punctuated by a heavy footfall.

I forget to stop myself from letting out a sinful noise. Although, what could it really matter, surely none of this could be more than an eerily real dream. I think more about the voice. It was gravelly. Deep and stern. I can’t tell if there is a warmth to this man or not. The way he echoes around the room forces me to squirm against my bounds again. It takes all my energy to stop myself when I hear the man ‘tsk’ at my antics. I’m desperate for something more than just the constricting ropes around my figure and limbs. I stretch my fingers as far as I can in an effort to call the man’s attention to me. 

I don’t know where he is. I don’t know how close he is either. I don’t know what he is going to do with me. I am here, tied up, and completely at this strange man’s mercy. Why am I not more afraid? I know I should be terrified but I’m not. The closest I come to feeling fear is in my anticipation of what will happen next.

Suddenly, there is a tingle that dances across my ankle but it’s gone so fast. I think I’m imagining thin-

I’m ready to jump out of my skin as the clearly defined sensation of a large hand wraps itself around my throat. The man is squeezing me hard enough to be almost painful. But the pain is acting like pleasure and racing down my spine again. Just as I begin to tremble, aching for the man to touch me more, to squeeze my throat tighter, the touch is gone completely.

I still don’t try to cover my noises. I cry out for his touch to return but I can’t seem to form words. I am only now noticing the gag filling my mouth. Was that really there this entire time? 

The man’s touch is on me again, lightly tracing along the underside of my arm. The blackness seems to sway as his touch sends my mind from my body. I am desperate to hold onto something to ground myself but I have no choice. I can only take what he wants to give.

“Such a sweet little present for me. Christmas must have come early this year.” The smirk is evident behind his voice. 

The burning behind my eyes is excruciating as the man removes my blindfold without giving me a chance to adjust to the brightness all around. It takes a little while but eventually I can focus on the silhouettes of things near to my face. It’s now that I can see the man’s face but I still can’t make out many details.

I give up trying to see my captor and let my head relax. My eyes drift up towards the ceiling where I am startled by an image of a figure tied up with lines all over their body. The ropes cross over each other so well to create the most intricate design of lines along their body and despite a lack of clothing, manages to look almost...elegant? It’s a difficult image to decipher with the light still blurring my eyes so much but the image looks so real, so life-like, it’s almost unsettling. 

Heat appears on my thigh to pull me from my trance, eliciting a breathy moan from me. The man is standing between my legs and is massaging gently into my skin. 

I squirm and look back to the image of the person above me and realize that they move too. The elegant, rope-covered figure above me is reflecting my own body back at me through a massive mirror. I don’t care when I realize it’s really myself; the rope patterns are too beautiful to look away from. I’ve never been so mesmerized by my own body before.

Heat once again pulls me from my infatuation with the mirror, this time on the side of my waist. The man has moved next to me and seems to be admiring his own craftmanship. I lock my eyes on him until he meets my gaze. I release a loud moan, keeping our sights aligned. His hands on my sides stop moving and he licks his lip, tugging it into a soft bite. I let out another gratifying noise, much more akin to a whimper. He must understand my desires because he returns between my legs, trailing his fingers across all the skin he passes, leaving chills in their wake.

This would have been the best dream ever if it really was just a dream.

**Author's Note:**

> I've just started in a Writer's Craft/Creative Writing class and we have daily writing prompts to use. Today's prompt involved using a word generator set to 3 results and no re-dos. We then had to write whatever came to us in our 10-minute exercise.  
> Good thing she'll never read them...
> 
> Words were:  
> Budge  
> Remain  
> Elegant


End file.
